


vermilion

by suheafoams



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Foxes, Human!Geonhak, M/M, Magical Realism, Spirits, foxspirit!seoho, mentions of past violence, this is fluff hurt comfort disguised as Conceptual Snippet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26182816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suheafoams/pseuds/suheafoams
Summary: “Since you’ve been clever enough to stumble upon my secret resting place, I’ll be generous and grant you one wish,” Seoho says, leaning forward so that a little more of the sunlight shines across his features through the canopy of the tree he’s sitting in. All nine of his vermilion tails lean forward with him, fluttering in interest because they’re just as curious as their owner about the unexpected (and technically impossible) visitor Seoho has received.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Lee Seoho
Comments: 17
Kudos: 160





	vermilion

**Author's Note:**

> this is an au that ive actively thought about but never really figured out how or what i wanted to write it until today. meant for it to go on twt as like a little 500 w snippet but u know how i am lmao 
> 
> as a heads up: seoho makes one non-graphic reference to past violence he's committed, if that bugs u maybe dont read but its pretty minor 
> 
> hope you enjoy! :P let me know what u think

“Since you’ve been clever enough to stumble upon my secret resting place, I’ll be generous and grant you one wish,” Seoho says, leaning forward so that a little more of the sunlight shines across his features through the canopy of the tree he’s sitting in. All nine of his vermilion tails lean forward with him, fluttering in interest because they’re just as curious as their owner about the unexpected (and technically impossible) visitor Seoho has received. 

In these parts of the woods, humans won’t come to any harm. They’ll only feel unnerved at best, since their dulled senses make it so that their instincts tell them they’re not alone, but they can’t actually see or hear the proof. Some humans have entirely lost their supernatural side, fear at their cores only spiking when they think a wild animal is going to attack them or they’re going to lose their footing on a deceptively easy climb. Others, more spiritually in tune, get skittish at even the slightest noise of leaves rustling or an evening breeze, and Seoho would tell them not to worry if not for the fact that he’s invisible to the human eye, and also that it takes a significant amount of energy on his end to interact with humans so he usually doesn’t bother. 

He’s not invisible to this human, though. 

The young man (“ _Geonhak,”_ he’d introduced himself as, with a sort of glazed, forlorn look in his eyes that had made even Seoho, the most mischievous and emotionally detached out of all the forest spirits, feel lonely just seeing it) blinks at Seoho’s offer and furrows his eyebrows like he doesn’t know what to make of Seoho. 

For all that he knows about humans, Seoho doesn’t know what to make of Geonhak either. There’s an earnestness in Geonhak’s gaze, along with a sort of blueish-white purity that radiates from his core which probably explains his unintentional ability to see Seoho. That sort of purity is rare in children, practically nonexistent in adults, but it has no undertone of self-righteousness or naivete, and it’s complicated by the overwhelming sadness that spills beyond his figure, periwinkle tendrils of smoke swirling around Geonhak before they slowly dissipate in the air. 

Seoho never grants wishes. After all, that’s not his job, and he’s lazy with his real missions, preferring to indulge himself in the occasional brewing of a hallucination terrifying enough to send a hiker gone astray in the right direction home before the natural predators of the forest swallow them right up. 

But for this human, he’ll make an exception. 

Geonhak echoes, slowly, “A wish?” 

Not hiding his fangs, Seoho smiles and nods. Geonhak’s eyebrows raise at the display of sharp teeth, but it’s clear that he’s not afraid, and now Seoho is even more intrigued. It’s one thing to have the spiritual capability to meet a nine tailed fox, but it’s another to be completely unafraid in the presence of one like Seoho. 

“Then…” Geonhak pauses, thinking. “For the people I cherish to be safe and happy.” 

Seoho frowns. “That’s it?” 

“Is that a bad wish?” Geonhak asks. 

“Most people ask for their own happiness,” Seoho says. “Success. Love. Money. Desire centers around the idealized self, after all.” 

“I don’t think happiness exists for someone like me,” Geonhak says. The smoke around him shifts into a deep sapphire, intensifying, and maybe it’s a coincidence or direct relation that he shivers immediately after, despite it being warm out. A thick, maroon blanket materializes around his shoulders, and he looks up at Seoho in confusion.

“Don’t touch it, or it’ll disappear,” Seoho says. “It’ll keep you warm.” 

“Thank you,” Geonhak says, letting his hands relax and drop to his sides without trying to adjust the blanket. 

“You don’t have anything more interesting you want?” Seoho asks. “Dreams are silly, but…” 

Lifetimes ago, Seoho had wanted so much as a human. He’d wanted to bring light and warmth into the world, as well as into his own life. Now Seoho has everything he could ever need, just none of the satisfaction that should come with it. 

So he finds it hard to imagine that Geonhak doesn’t want anything for himself when desire and ambition is what drives humans forward even if they’re unaware of it. 

Geonhak scrunches his nose, and smiles a little to himself, then hides it like he doesn’t know if he should be amused. It’s...cute, and Seoho doesn’t know why he suddenly wants to reach for his fan, an elaborate thing crafted out of phoenix feathers, nymph-made paper and webs stolen from trickster raccoon dogs, when he’s objectively the less vulnerable party here. 

“If I touch your tails, will they disappear too?” Geonhak asks eventually. 

Seoho shakes his bangs out of his face, caught off guard. “Huh?” 

“They look fluffy,” Geonhak says. “Am I allowed to touch them?” 

Seoho has killed a human before, for trying to harvest his tails. The blood had been a pain to clean out of his fur. Not as much of a pain as being approached with ulterior motives, which he hates even more than being touched, two traits that have remained consistent whether he’s human or a fox god. 

Geonhak doesn’t look like he has a hidden agenda behind his question, though, and Seoho feels generous enough today that he removes himself from where he’s sitting up in the branches and settles in front of Geonhak, all in less than a second. The movement is too fast for Geonhak to register, but a leaf lands in his hair as he stares at Seoho in mild surprise, and Seoho laughs at the sight, deciding not to remove the leaf. In this case, what Geonhak doesn’t know won’t hurt him. 

All nine of Seoho’s tails spread out around him obediently, waiting for curious fingers to sink into their plush, red-orange fur. “You can touch,” Seoho tells Geonhak. 

When Geonhak reaches out to pet the tail closest to him, his eyes light up in surprise, probably because he isn’t expecting the fur to be so soft. “I suppose there isn’t special demon shampoo, is there?” he asks, and Seoho stares at him in disbelief for a moment before he realizes Geonhak is trying to joke with him, and then Seoho’s laughing into the sleeve of his dark red, nearly black cloak. 

“I’m not a demon,” Seoho says, as he reaches out to flick the leaf out of Geonhak’s hair. “Just a fox with too many lives left.” 

“Your eyes are pretty,” Geonhak says. “I couldn’t see them earlier because I wasn’t close enough.” 

Something in Seoho’s gut twists even though there’s nothing there, and his facial expression must be revealing to some extent, because Geonhak smiles at him sweetly, and—

“Flirting with a spirit who can easily eat you won’t win you any more wishes, Geonhak,” Seoho says. “You wasted the one chance I gave you to have the entire world handed to you on a platter.” 

“I’m not flirting. Plus, you say that like you would have actually granted my wish,” Geonhak says, and Seoho does a double take at him. “Are you handing over the moon to anyone who asks for it, then, if you weren’t lying?” 

Instead of explaining that he rarely offers to grant wishes in the first place, Seoho says, “I don’t lie. The truth is a piece of glass shattered into millions of pieces. I simply frame the narrative using one shard of that glass to convince people I’m being honest.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Geonhak says, and he laughs when Seoho lets two tails brush against his cheek, tickling him in retaliation. “But you’re warm.” 

”Mmm?” 

“I haven’t felt warm in a long time,” Geonhak says. His voice is deep. Soothing, even, but he sounds so small. So tired. “It’s always cold in here.” He pats at his chest to indicate where _here_ is, and Seoho wants to hold Geonhak’s face, or something, to see if the fire from his own magic can bleed into Geonhak’s skin from his palms and be of any help. “But now it’s better.” 

“You can take the blanket home with you, if you want,” Seoho says. 

“But you said…” 

“It takes a bit of energy to make it real,” Seoho says. And a bit of sacrifice on his end. Seoho’s going to have to operate with just eight tails, for a while. “I can, though.” 

“That would be nice,” Geonhak says. “Do I have to bring it back, or...?” 

“You don’t want to visit a lonely fox god in the woods regularly?” Seoho jokes, and Geonhak’s ears flush pink, but not with displeasure. “You’ll need to bring it back eventually when you’re not sad anymore.” 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever stop being sad, but I understand,” Geonhak says. Some of the cold from his periwinkle smoke seeps into Seoho’s shoulder, the one that’s closer to Geonhak, and Seoho’s eyes widen. Human emotions aren’t supposed to affect him like this, but he just smiles reassuringly when Geonhak gives him a concerned look. “How do I find you, Seoho?” 

“That won’t be hard,” Seoho says. “You’re the only human who can see me, after all.” 

Geonhak tilts his head, like a puppy. “...What?” 

“There’s a lot of pretty scenery I can show you, whenever you come to visit again,” Seoho says, not elaborating. “Lots of cliffs, too.” 

“Are you going to try and push me off one?” 

“That would be a waste of a delicious human soul,” Seoho deadpans, and all things considered, Geonhak should be terrified. Seoho’s a little apprehensive himself, now that he knows he’s not completely immune to Geonhak’s spiritual energy even if it’s human energy that’s significantly weaker than his own. 

Geonhak just laughs, and the frost on Seoho’s shoulder eases up a little bit, starts to thaw out as Geonhak leans into the one tail of Seoho’s he’s been holding onto all this time. 

“I’ll visit again,” he promises, rubbing his cheek into Seoho’s soft fur, and Seoho resists the urge to purr. 

**Author's Note:**

> i know this is short (starts crying) but pls drop a comment if u like it ldkjdl 
> 
> im also thinking of turning this au into a little series where i just update randomly with maybe small moments from this universe that dont necessarily relate to each other (which takes off my stress of being consistent in worldbuilding and what not, which would be more important in an actual plot of an ongoing story, etc.) like welcome to night vale, but softer, fluffier. :D im going to mark this as a complete one shot for now bc the one time i Plan a series, i curse myself and end up never touching it again (sorry a.c.e readers) 
> 
> u can find me on twt or cc @ suheafoams~ i prefer cc/tweets over dm :P thank you for reading!


End file.
